The Sacrifice
by Raven Sharpe
Summary: A modern take on the blending of the tales of Eros and Psyche and the Phantom of the Opera
1. Chapter 1

"I'm afraid Mr. Daae that there's simply nothing I can do. You have no other securities for the loan. We have to say no."

Gustave Daae hung his head. "I understand. Thank you for your time." This was the third bank today to deny him the much needed money. Already he had remortgaged his house and refinanced his car in a desperate attempt to save his dying music shop, but he needed more. The economic recession had hit the shop hard. With less money to spend, fewer people bought his hand-crafted violins or thumb through the extensive record collection. If it kept going like this, the shop that he had spent his life cultivating would have to close. He knew that it would not only break his heart, it would break Christine's heart as well.

Christine was the youngest of his three daughters and she was his favorite. He felt guilty for having a favorite amongst his daughters, but he did. She still lived with him in her childhood home - a house that was made warmer and brighter merely by her presence. Her two half-sisters had already married well-off businessmen and seemed only to come to their family outings to show off whatever new trinket their husbands had given them. But not Christine. She had stayed with him after her mother's death keeping him company. She worked at a local bar singing, playing piano, and serving drinks to the patrons. Her beauty often afforded her good tips and quite a few offers from the men, but she always refused them. Part of him was relieved that she wasn't going anywhere, but the other part of him wanted to see her happy and to have little grandchildren running around. Whenever he voiced his concerns to her, however, she always smiled and said that she was happy taking care of him and helping out at the shop.

Gustave had just gotten out to his car when his phone rang. The number was unlisted. He flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Can I speak to a Mr. Gustave Daae?" a male voice with a Middle Eastern accent asked.

"Speaking."

"Good afternoon Mr. Daae. I am Nadir Khan with Eros Inc. We would like to discuss the possibility of a loan to your shop - Music and More. Would you be free later today to come in and talk with me?"

Gustave was dumbfounded. What did a multinational beauty company want with his simple store? "Ah, yes, I would love to. What time is convenient for you?"

"How about 3:30?"

"That works. I'll be there."

"Perfect. Ask for Nadir Khan at the front desk and they will show you up."

Gustave snapped the phone shut and hopped into his car. It was 2:30 and it would take 45 minutes to get to the headquarters. Eros Inc. was the world's leading beauty company with branches all over the world. The headquarters of the corporation, however, was settled in the countryside near the town of Lake City. It was a privately held corporation and it was rumored to be held almost entirely by one family, though it was unknown who this family was. They remained shrouded in mystery despite decades of running the company.

Gustave hurriedly parked in the vast lot in front of the company and strode towards the glass doors with renewed hope. This was it. His last chance at keeping the shop running. He straightened his tie ran his hand through his thinning gray hair before walking in.

The entrance was made of glass and steel angled in such a way that the sun reflected off of every surface giving it a sort of celestial glow. Even the white granite of the front desk sparkled and shone in the sun.

A beautiful young woman looked up at him. "How can I help you sir?"

"I have a 3:30 appointment with Nadir Khan." He said, his voice questioning. Perhaps it was a prank.

"And your name?"

"Gustave Daae."

She typed a few things into the computer and handed him a small white card with "Guest" emblazoned on it with silver lettering. "Keep this on you at all times. It will get you into where you need to go which is..." she checked her screen, "room 303, so take that elevator up to third floor and it should be on your left." She pointed to the elevators behind her.

"Thanks."

She smiled. "Have a nice day, Mr. Daae."

He nodded and headed towards the elevator, trying not to stare at the beauty surrounding him. Doubt and hope warred in his chest. Maybe this was some elaborate joke. Maybe they intended on buying out his store. Maybe they actually wanted to help. In any case, he would be a fool not to hear them out.

Shaking with nervousness, Gustave knocked on the door to room 303.

"Come in."

He entered to see a man sitting behind a dark wood desk, looking over some paperwork. The man appeared to be balding in places, but had carefully arranged his black hair to futily try and cover it. Dark eyes looked up through wide-rimmed spectacles as Gustave entered.

"Ah, Mr. Daae. I'm Nadir Khan. We spoke on the phone earlier." Nadir stood shook Gustave's hand.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Khan."

"Likewise. Please, sit."

Gustave sat in one of the two chairs sitting in front of the Middle Eastern gentleman's desk. Nadir's office was pleasantly decorated with dark wood accented against the pure white of the walls. Behind Nadir was an entirely glass wall that looked out to the fields of the countryside. The wall to Nadir's left was a tasteful arrangement of framed mirrors. Gustave snuck a glance of himself in the mirror._ I must look awful after everything today_, he thought.

Nadir took his time shuffling his papers together. "You're probably wondering why a beauty company is taking such an interest in a music shop," he grinned.

"I admit it is a bit odd."

Nadir chuckled. "My boss is... eccentric. He is willing to _give_ you the money with no need to pay him back on one condition."

"What is it?" Gustave felt his apprehension creeping back.

"He wishes for you daughter, Christine's hand in marriage."

Gustave's heart sank into the carpet. "You know that is not a choice I can make, right?"

"Yes, he is aware. However, he is convinced that if you discuss this with her, that she would agree."

"Can I meet this boss of yours?"

Nadir frowned. "No, I'm sorry. He is... unsociable."

Gustave looked down. "I can't accept this offer. I just can't." He felt his heart break.

"I see. Well, at least think about the offer. It stands through the end of this week. We would like to hear your decision by then."

Gustave nodded. "Thank you. I'll think about it."

"Please do." Nadir stood up and showed him the door.

Gustave left emptily. He felt numb as he made his way back to his car.

Nadir turned to the wall of mirrors. "That went exactly as I expected."

"Give him time, he will see reason," a muffled voice answered from behind the wall. "She will convince him. Of that, I am sure."

"But what then? You intend to marry her. Are you going to hide from her as well?"

The wall opened and a dark man stepped gracefully out. "Do you not remember my face? Of course I shall have to hide from her. That is the only way that she could ever come to love me," he hissed.

-((0))

**So this is my current project. I apologize for the number of abandoned projects; I have been busy. As you probably already know, this story is a modern take on a crossover between the Greek legend of Eros and Psyche and Phantom of the Opera. **

**Now - my intent is to update weekly. We'll see if that actually happens or if I will grow bored of this project. I wrote three chapters last night, so I am hoping that momentum will keep going.**

**I _am_ looking for a beta. It would be nice to have someone at least read through and give me some criticisms here and there and perhaps correct my grammar mistakes.**

**I think that's it. Please review.**

**~Raven Sharpe**


	2. Chapter 2

The bell to the shop jingled as Gustave walked into Daae Music and More. Christine perked up from behind the counter. She always worked there, helping him out on her off days.

"How did it go?' She looked at him with concern.

He grimaced. "Not well, angel." He could see her heart breaking. "The bank said no."

She looked down at her sneakers and played with the frayed carpet for a second. "We'll get through this, Dad, I know we will."

He sighed. "There is one option." He was already regretting this.

"What? What is it?"

"I received a phone call from Eros Inc."

"And?" O, the hope in her voice. It killed him.

"They are willing to give us the money on one condition."

Her eyes widened. "And?"

He looked down at the floor and mumbled, "The condition is that you marry a man in exchange for the money."

The horror that crossed her face ripped through his soul. He instantly regretted mentioning the offer. She stood there behind the counter for a second, silently processing. A steady determination steeled over her features.

"Will they give us enough money?"

"Yes. As much as we need."

"Then I accept."

"Christine! No! You can't do this! This isn't some - some - I don't know! This is marriage."

"I know." She smiled. "I'll make it work."

Panic stole over his heart and a sharp pain brought him to his knees. Christine rushed around the counter to him.

"Dad? Are you O.K.? Dad?" Gustave clutched his chest. "Dad, I'm calling an ambulance." Christine whipped out her cellphone and and dialed 911 as faster as her shaking hands could. The phone rang once, twice...

"911, what's your emergency?"

"My father. I think he's having a heart attack."

"Calm down, ma'am. What's your location?"

"Daae Music and More."

"Alright, we are sending you an ambulance."

"Thank you."

Christine knelt over her father as she heard the sirens approaching. Two men in blue jackets ran into the shop, each with a bag full of equiptment.

"Ma'am, please step back."

She stepped back and leaned against the counter. A third man wheeled in a stretcher and the three lifted him up onto it. The stretcher was wheeled out into the back of the ambulance.

"Are you riding with or following?" one of the paramedics asked.

Her mind spun. The store. "I have to lock up. I'll follow you."

She grabbed her keys and closed and locked the door after grabbing Gustave's abandoned cell phone. She climbed into Gustave's car and headed out to St. Mary's Hospital, the only hospital in town. Fear ran through her veins. How were they going to pay for this? They had no insurance to speak of and hospitals were expensive. Her thoughts wandered back to Eros Inc. It was her only option now. Even it Gustave disapproved, she had to do it.

As she walked into the hospital, she went through Gustave's call history. She called the most recent number.

"Nadir Kahn speaking," a heavily accented voice answered.

"Hello? I'm Christine Daae calling on behalf of Gustave Daae."

"Ah, Miss Daae! It is nice to hear from you so soon."

"I want to talk about the deal offered to my father."

"Wonderful! We would like to meet up with you and discuss it as soon as possible."

"I am at the hospital right now. I don't know when... " her voice trailed off. "Gustave was just brought here."

"I understand. I'll be right over."

Christine looked nervously over at the front desk.

"Hello?"

A kindly old woman looked up at her. "Yes?"

"I'm looking for my father, he was just brought here a few minutes ago?"

The old lady nodded. "Name?"

"Gustave Daae."

She typed the name into her computer. She looked up at Christine, concerned. "It says here that he is currently in surgery in Wing E. Follow the green signs to the elevator. The waiting room will be on the fourth floor."

"Thank you so much." She practically ran to the elevator. It could not move fast enough. She got up to the waiting room, though and realized her rush was for naught as the nurse explained to her that Gustave would likely be in surgery for another four hours. She was handed a stack of forms to fill out, but all Christine could do was collapse into a chair, sobbing.

"Please God. Please. Just let him live."

-((0))

**I must apologize for the delay in updating. I want to thank all of my reviewers. It is because I see you in my inbox that I have not simply forgotten this story. T****hank you.**

**Raven Sharpe**


	3. Chapter 3

Nadir grabbed his scarf and flew out the door, barely remembering his car keys. If there was a time to "seal the deal," it was that instant. He knew that Erik would kill him if he failed in this assignment. Erik had never been this involved, this _obsessed_ with any of his acquisitions. If he had fallen in love with the girl, it sure had not softened him up any. Perhaps it was just another toy to momentarily appease Erik's boredom.

As I pulled into the hospital lot, my phone rang. Erik. Of course. I picked up.

"She's in the E Wing, cardiac surgery family waiting room." I never asked how Erik knew these things. I just assumed that I was better off not knowing to what extent Erik broke the law. "Nadir, you are to offer her anything she needs. You have my permission."

"And the conditions of the deal?"

"Yes. Be sure she understands that we are to be wed first."

"Done."

"Now hurry." Erik hung up the phone as quickly and unceremoniously as he usually did. It may just have been Nadir's imagination, but he had thought that he heard a note of anxiety in Erik's voice. Nadir shrugged it off. It was impossible. Erik was not human. That he knew.

He reached the waiting room to find Christine silently crying over a stack of papers. His heart went out to her. She was indeed beautiful. No wonder Gustave was so protective of her. He reassured a nurse that was standing by impatiently that he would take care of all of the paperwork. She nodded and left them alone.

"Christine," Nadir said gently.

She looked up. Even tear-stained, her face was certainly of the angels. He felt a pang of guilt. She was to be married to Erik who was certainly her opposite in every way. "Nadir?"

"Yes. It's me."

"He's had a heart attack. They said he'll pull through, but what then? We have no insurance. I can't pay his bills." She fell into tears again. Nadir moved to put a hand on her shoulder then thought better. She was as good as being Erik's now and he knew from experience that Erik was very possessive.

"We can help."

"Really?"

"Yes. My employer wishes to marry you with all of his heart." _I'm sure that'd be a lie if Erik had a heart_, Nadir thought. "He is willing to provide any financial support to his new bride - you - that you require, merely in return for being his wife."

Nadir slid a packet of papers out of his briefcase. "I have the contract right here. My employer has a judge ready to marry you, right now, if you so choose."

"And this financial support, it is a loan...?"

"No. It is a gift so long as you remain married. If you were to violate this agreement, the money would become a loan that would need to be paid back with interest."

"So my father will be taken care of?"

"Yes, along with Daae Music and More."

Bravery welled up in her eyes. "I'll do it."

"Fantastic," Nadir commented pulling out a pen. "Sign here and we'll head down to the chapel."

Christine signed, noticing that the ink was blood red. Perhaps this was what it was like to sell one's soul to the devil. Numbly, she walked down to the chapel where a judge in black robes stood alone waiting for her at the altar.

He turned to Christine. "Are you ready?" She nodded.

_"Do you Christine, accept this man as your husband — joining with him today in matrimony — offering your friendship and loving care — cherishing and respecting him, loving and embracing him in times of adversity and times of joy? If so, answer now, 'I do.' "_

_"I do"_

_"Do you accept this woman, Christine, as your wife — joining with her today in matrimony — offering your friendship and loving care – cherishing and respecting her, loving and embracing her in times of adversity and times of joy? If so, answer now, 'I do.'"_

_"I do." A voice said from the space directly to the left of Christine.__Startled, she looked over to find the space still empty. _

_The judge seemed not to notice the lack of a groom. "I now pronounce you man and wife."_

_Christine was unsure of what to do next. There seemed to be no groom, so there would be no customary kiss of the new bride, nor exchange of rings. Instead, the judge pulled out an embellished piece of paper that already bore one illegible signature. Christine studied it for a split second before adding her loopy signature on the other line. It was not illegible in the sense that most signitures are unreadable. No, it was signed in the handwriting of a four-year-old. A moment of doubt of what she had married marred her mind, but then she remembered the rich voice that had said its "I do." She had married a man. She hoped and prayed that he was a kind man. _

_Nadir whisked her out of the chapel as quickly as he could and led her out to his car. Christine fought back. "Where are we going?"_

_He grit his teeth. This was going to be unpleasant. "You are going to meet your new husband. And then I will sort out your father and the store's care. Don't worry. I shall give them both the best of care."_

_"But - Nadir - when my father wakes up. He'll be alone..."_

_Nadir grimaced. "I know. But it was ___his___ wish. You'll have to fight it out with him."_

_Christine nodded and got into the car, too exhausted to do fight any longer._

_-((0))_

**Here's this week's chapter. This is the last of my pre-prepared chapters, written about a year or so ago. Have a good week! **

**Raven Sharpe**


	4. Chapter 4

The car ride stretched on to infinity. The adrenaline that had been keeping her going evaporated into the air. The fear and stress simply melted into the seat and her eyes drifted closed. Tasks swam in front of her eyes. Marie and Sara would have to be called. They would need to know that their father was in the hospital. The shop would need to be cared for. She slipped into sleep with the desperate prayer that Gustave would make it through surgery.

A bump in the road woke Christine. Nadir looked over sympathetically. "Sorry," he mumbled. "It was good that you got some rest. We are almost there."

The roads that Nadir turned onto seemed to be getting gradually smaller and smaller, from a country highway to a gravel road to mere weedy tracks deeper and deeper into the forest. Christine silently looked out the window at the dense trees, her mind numb. _What have I gotten myself into?_

All of the sudden, the trees cleared away and a lone white house setting up on a cliff came into view. Christine's eyes widened at the beauty of it. A long balcony wrapped itself around the house, sheltering a heavy red door with an intricate golden knocker. Black shutters embraced each of the windows, shielding the interior from view. Nadir pulled the car up and parked on a small patch of gravel.

Her heart beat faster and faster with the sound of Nadir pulling the keys from the ignition and opening the door. He walked around the front of the car and opened up her door. She jumped a little at the sound. Grasping her purse she stepped out of the car. Gravel shifted under her feet. _What am I doing?_

She looked around quickly. There was no way out of this. She had done this for Gustave and there was no going back now. She bit her lip and started towards the house. Nadir lead her towards the front door. As if by a delicate thread, she bobbed along behind Nadir.

Nadir knocked on the door three times and it swung open seemingly of its own accord. The cold salty air outside gave way to warm air sweet with incense.

An old woman stood at the door and smiled warmly. "Welcome back, Mr. Khan." She grasped his hand and hugged him.

"And... a guest?" She looked past Christine.

"Ahem. Yes. This is his new wife, Christine. Christine, this is Mme. Giry, the housekeeper."

"It's so nice to meet you Christine." She reached out her hand and grasped Christine's, engulfing Christine's hands in her own. Christine smiled. "You'll have to forgive me. I can't see that well."

Christine's eyes widened. "I'm so-"

"Oh hush. It's nothing to be sorry about. I'm an old woman."

Christine paused. "Then, it's nice to meet you."

"You too, dear. Let me show you to your room while Nadir washes up for dinner. Come, dear." Mme. Giry led her up a set of stair and then down a hallway lined with paintings obscure in the darkness. She stopped at a door at the end of the hallway and opened it.

"Here we are." She turned on the light, illuminating the master bedroom. A large four poster bed made up with crimson silk sheets dominated the room. The intricately carved dark wood drew Christine in; her fascination drew her hand to trace the curves of the post. Mme. Giry grasped Christine's hand.

"Come. Your bath is over here." She led Christine to a smaller door off to the side of the room. The door opened to a large bathroom. Christine's shoes clacked against the black marble floor. Luxury dripped out of every corner. "He made sure that everything is stocked up for you. Oh! Speaking of which... I must show you your closet. You'll have to pick something out of there for dinner. Here." She opened another door in the bedroom to reveal a walk-in closet.

"I shall leave you alone now. Dinner is at eight. You have about an hour to shower and get ready. Dress formally."

Mme. Giry smiled and left Christine alone, closing the door behind her.

Christine wandered back to the bed and laid back. The bed welcomed her sore muscles. Closing her eyes, her worries flooded back flashing behind her eyelids, but the store and her father were far away. She was helpless here. She'd have to figure out where exactly where _here_ was to figure out how early to get up to get to the shop to open in the morning. She'd be able to visit Gustave during lunch. _Yes, this will all work out._

With this new conviction, she got up and went to shower. She touched the cold glass and pulled it open. Leaving her clothes on the bench, she stepped in and stared at the lone shower-head. No knobs. She scrunched her eyebrows and thought for a second. She reached up and grabbed the shower-head and yelped in surprise when the warm water hit her. She looked up at it and saw a little number in the top. She shifted her hand to the left and the number went down as the water got colder. She swiped it to the right and the water heated up. So the number was the temperature. She nodded and rehung the shower-head on the wall, savoring the heat.

Christine found that the closet was stocked with only two dresses – a short summer dress with a delicate butterfly print and an ankle length plum dress with a delicate lace bolero. She grabbed the plum dress and the stockings and shoes that looked like they went with it and dressed quietly, looking down at her watch. She had about fifteen minutes to spare, so she decided that that was close enough to try and find the dining room.

Nervously, she walked back down the stairs. A finger of golden light beckoned to her. She followed it into a well-lit sitting room with four wing-back chairs circled around a dark coffee table. Nadir sat in one, holding a clear glass in one hand. He looked up at Christine and smiled.

"My dear! Come. Sit. Would you like an aperitif?" He stood up and motioned her into a similar chair.

"What is it?" Christine asked, eying the crystal decanter in the corner.

"I believe that it is a twenty year bourbon. Erik has the best taste in liquor."

"Erik?"

A brief look of panic crossed Nadir's face. "He's my employer. And your husband."

"And his – our last name?"

"I'm afraid I've already let too much slip. I'm sorry. He'll tell you himself soon enough, I'm sure."

"He'll be at dinner?"

"Of course. He tries to never miss one of Mme. Giry's dinners. She is a fabulous cook."

"But -"

"Yes. She's blind. Doesn't mean her taste buds are gone. She gets around very well for her... disability. Are you sure you don't want a drink?"

"No, but thank you for the offer."

A soft knock came from one of the doors. "Ah. That'll be Mme. Giry. You should head to the dining room. Follow me."

He set his glass down on the coffee table and pulled open a side door. "This way."

Christine stood and followed him cautiously back into the dark hallways. He opened a door into a simple dining room with a long wooden table. She could only see one chair as only the close end of the table was lit. The other end was impossible to discern in the darkness.

"You're not staying?"

"No. I'm afraid I must be headed home for the evening. He's waiting for you." Nadir bowed out.

"Please. Sit." A deep voice reached out of the dark end of the table.

"That color looks wonderful on you, Christine."

She blushed. "Thank you... Erik?"

A brief moment of tension filled the room. "Yes. I am Erik. Welcome to our house, dear."

"You'll have to excuse me, but where exactly are we? I fell asleep on the way here."

"We're about fifty miles south of the border... on the ocean as you've probably surmised."

The numbers started rolling through Christine's head.

"You are 86.4 miles away from the shop, as the crow flies." Erik said interrupting Christine's calculations.

"Thanks." She blushed.

Mme. Giry interrupted, bringing in tqo plates, setting one in front of Christine then one in front of Erik. Christine looked down to see a small cup of a thick yellow soup.

"Butternut squash soup with pumpkin seeds." She bowed and left the three alone again.

"You must be worried about your father," Erik continued. "He is safely out of surgery. I will take care of everything. You shouldn't worry. An associate of mine is with him. He should be out of the hospital tomorrow. My employee will stay with him. He should rest for at least a month."

Christine looked down at her soup. "Thank you."

"It is no problem, Christine."

"Still, thank you."

"Anything you want. All you need to do is ask."

"Could I get a ride into town tomorrow? The shop..."

"I'll have it taken care of. Nadir here has instructions to find a new worker to take care of the shop while your father is resting. You don't need to do anything."

Christine blushed again. "Thank you."

"No problem. Now eat your soup. Mme. Giry will be terribly offended if you don't even try it."

Christine dipped her spoon in and took a bite. The sweet nuttiness exploded on her tongue. "It's delicious!"

"Yes. Mme. Giry had trained to be a professional chef at one point in her life."

"Well, compliments to the chef then."

"Thank you, dear." Mme. Giry had snuck back in collecting the soup dishes and replacing them with an entree. "New York strip steak with a fennel sauce."

Christine dug in, delighted that the dish was just as delicious as the soup.

"So we are married then?" Christine asked, the whole thing not feeling quite real yet.

"Yes."

"I have to ask about your... expectations?" The meat went sour in her mouth.

"I understand that our passion is not yet mutual. Whatever we do is up to you. I would only ask that you permit me to sleep by your side."

Christine's face glowed bright red. "I think I can agree to that. Thank you."

"I may have forced you into marriage, but that is as far as I intend to force you to do anything," he murmured softly.

Christine carved off another piece of her steak, not sure what to say next.

"I suppose... I have another request. Please do not attempt to see my face. It would cause us both pain."

Christine's eyebrows furrowed, but she nodded her acceptance. _His identity must be very important to keep secret for him to go to these lengths_, she thought.

"So, you sing?" Erik commented pulling the conversation back to lighter topics.

"Not very well. Just good enough for weeknights at the bar," Christine answered modestly.

Mme. Giry set a dessert in front of them. "Pear poached in a white wine sauce."

"After this I'll have to show you the music room. "

"Music room? Why?"

"To start your music lessons, of course."

-((0))

Sorry for the awkward ending to the chapter. I couldn't find a good place to break it. Oh, well.

Sorry the chapter's a bit late. It took me longer than I thought it would to write it. Thanks for all your support.

Raven Sharpe


	5. Chapter 5

**HERE I CAST A WARNING**: _whosoever passes this point understands that this tale is about Eros (physical love). _

_If you need an explanation as to what Eros entails, you are quite possibly not of age. This should be dealt with in closing this tab and consulting one's mother or father figure._

_If you are offended by Eros, you should be aware that I intend to deal with it in a rather honest manner. If this is not to your liking, do us both a favor and close this tab. This story is not for you._

_Now that you have been warned, let us resume our story._

-((0))

"Music lesson," Christine repeated hollowly.

"Yes. You seem to believe that your voice is sub par. I would like the opportunity to convince you otherwise."

Christine paused. It would be a chance to get to know her new husband better, and if he could help her improve her voice all the better. "Thank you."

She could almost feel him smiling across the table and could almost taste his enthusiasm.

"No time to waste then," Christine heard his chair scrape back. "Once you leave out the door behind you, go back up the steps. The music room is the first door. I'll join you shortly."

Christine stood and left, wandering back up the stairs. Light from the music room spilled out of the open door.

The walls were made up of built in bookshelves stuffed with music. In between each shelf was a glass display in which different instruments hung. One was an old, scuffed up violin and in another was a shiny brass trumpet. A single grand piano sat in the middle of the room. Christine wandered over to one of the shelves and touched a yellowed clump of papers.

"Ahem," Erik's voice sounded from behind her somewhere. She whipped around to find him still absent. "You may want to move to the curve of the piano. I apologize, but I will have to turn off the lights."

Christine moved over to the inner curve of the piano and stood facing the empty stool. The lights turned off and the door behind her closed leaving her in total darkness. Footsteps tracked from the door to the piano stool.

A few notes rang out from the piano.

"What kind of warm-up do you do before you sing at George's?"

"I usually just hum through a few of my favorite songs in the car before going in, to be honest." She had always found the girls who did complex and loud warm-ups in the back room to be a bit ostentatious.

"I suppose then, that is where I shall start. I want you to sing the word "Lu." Listen first, then repeat." He played a scale on the piano.

Christine blushed as her voice cracked on the last note.

"That's O.K. You are nervous. You must learn to overcome the nervousness and just sing. Again." He played the scale again, and Christine repeated it, putting a bit more volume into it.

"Hmmm... You need to adjust your posture. Do you mind if I touch you?"

Christine blushed a deeper red. "No," she squeaked out.

Two hands gently touched her shoulders. "Your shoulders should be further back. They should not be forced, but you need your chest out a bit so that you can get more air." Christine adjusted. "There. Like that. Now, lets try the scale again, this time in one breath."

The scale rang out even fuller this time. "Good. Now, I want you to keep your posture and breath in mind. We're going to do scales again, with the exception that this time each successive scale will be a half step up. Ready? I'll play along with you."

Christine voice climbed and fell through each scale, steadily rising higher and higher. Finally, hitting a high A flat, her voice gave out.

"Good," Erik mused. "I think that that's where we should stop for tonight."

Christine nodded. "Thank you for the lesson, Erik."

"No, I must thank _you_ for so many things. You have no idea how much it means to me that you agreed to marry me."

"You could have gone about this in a more normal way," Christine teased.

"No, I couldn't." The despondence in Erik's voice quickly snatched away the mirth from Christine's jest.

"Why?"

"I... You must never see my face. Promise me. I will give you the world, but just do not try to see my face," he pleaded.

Christine closed her eyes. " I promise."

"Thank you."

A pregnant pause filled the air.

"Ahem. I have some things to take care of yet this evening, but if you should go to bed anytime you wish. I will join you after the lights are off. If you are not opposed, of course," he quickly tacked on.

"We are just sleeping next to one another?"

"Yes. Until you wish for more, of course, I will hold back."

Christine smiled. "Thank you."

"Of course."

He left her, his footsteps sounding to the door. The lights flickered on a few seconds later, leaving Christine wincing at the sudden light.

Her eyes adjusted to the empty room. A yellowing score sat on the piano. Christine sauntered over and sat on the still warm bench. She blushed. She was married now. _Married_. Her thighs squeezed together at the imagining of her... and him. Heat flooded her face. She quickly glanced around and found herself still alone. She breathed a small sigh of relief. What an embarrassment if he had been there...

Her mind ruminated on the idea of him. Who was he really? He had to be someone important to Eros Inc. That much she was certain of. But who? And why did he need to conceal his identity? Wild ideas of wanted mobsters, eccentric oil barons, and reclusive celebrities swarmed through her head. She opened up the piece sitting on the piano and started plunking out the vocal part, hoping that this would swat such unwanted thoughts out of the way.

Pretty soon, she was humming the tune. It was a simple and straightforward piece. The foreign words held no meaning to Christine's eyes so instead, she sang the tune to a shapeless syllable. After a few times through, she began to feel exhaustion draping over her. The page blurred as her eyes started to struggle keeping focus. It was time for bed.

She neatly folded the music back up and set it neatly back on top of the piano. Traipsing back down the dark hallway towards her – no "their" – door she found the room softly lit and a nightgown laying out on the bed for her. It seemed to be a fairly modest, yet feminine contraption with cap sleeves and lace and bead embellishments. It fell to a little below her knee, but embraced her upper body gently.

She looked around the room, and, seeing no one, closed the door softly and changed into the nightgown. She reveled in its softness. She carefully hung her dress up, braided her hair, and then slipped into bed.

It was too large a bed. Having never slept in anything beyond a single bed, she did not know where to lay down. With its width, she could probably sleep comfortably sleeping sideways on it. Picking the side closest to her closet and bathroom, she curled up on the bed and closed her eyes.

She was just on the brim of sleep when Erik slipped in. He moved over behind her and touched her waist.

"May I hold you?"

"Sure," she mumbled.

Careful to keep a small space between their bodies, he slipped and arm around her waist. Her heart started to beat faster and faster. His warmth radiated across the small space between them. She adjusted her hips hoping it would ease the tension inside, but it lingered there. How could she feel this way? How could she be doing this? She had only met the man a few hours ago. Sure they were married, but...

She squeezed her eyes closed and focused on calming down and going to sleep, but her back just wouldn't relax.

She lay very still and kept her breathing quiet. She tried to sleep, but the idea of there being a man behind her wouldn't allow her heart to calm down. The darkness seemed to stretch on and on with Erik's warm hand on her belly.

-((0))

_O.K. That was pretty tame. Forgive me. I had to give the warning. I know some people are a bit sensitive. It gets "better" from here._

_Raven Sharpe_


	6. Chapter 6

**It has been a long time. Here, I suppose I could insert some excuse about living in a new country, being busy, computer breaking, etc., but, in truth, I don't have any good excuse. I've neglected this story for far too long. I got a review for it in my inbox a few months ago and the wheels started turning once again. I can't promise that I'll have new chapters up regularly, but I do have the entire month of June off and besides cooking, visiting friends, and maybe a little piga hodi, I haven't got anything else but writing planned. We'll see.**

**Yours truly,**

**Raven Sharpe**

**P.S. Forgive me my mistakes. I don't have a beta. Volunteers welcome. The only requirement is that you keep on me to post more often.**

**-←-←-((0))**

Christine opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the clean morning light. She looked over at the crumpled, long-cold sheets beside her, the only evidence that her new husband had, in fact, laid there. A note, written in red ink and what looked to be a kindergartener's handwriting lay on the pillow next to her.

_My Dear Christine,_

_I regret that I cannot wake with you this morning. Alas, my work calls for me. After you dress, Mme. Giry should be waiting for you with breakfast. Nadir will come to give you a tour of the house later in the morning. As the case will be most days, I do not expect to return before dinner at seven and our lesson afterward. _

_All the best,_

_Erik _

She stretched and rolled out of the soft sheets, working the tiredness out of her muscles.

The wardrobe door lay open. She gasped at the plethora of dresses that had not been there last night. Delicate chiffon and lace of every color imaginable lay spread out before her. She ran her hands across a silken green dress, feeling the cool material for herself.

Eyes wide, she stumbled back with a new thought: how had this been prepared so quickly? Had he been stalking her? That made the drawer of delicate lacy underthings quite a bit more worrying. Hugging the towel closer to her, she frantically searched for a simple pair of jeans and t-shirt; there were none. Sighing, she grabbed a modest blue cotton dress and the most conservative underthings that she could find and dressed quickly.

She grasped at the handle of the door to the hallway. She followed the hall lights, like will-o-the-wisps to last night's formal dining room. Mme. Giry appeared as if on cue with an omelet, fresh bread, and cut fruit that she set before Christine.

Christie blushed and looked down at the plate. "Dig in, dear. Nadir should be here when you finish."

"Thank you," she whispered and tucked into Mme. Giry's delicious fare.

As her plates were being cleared away, Nadir's voice rang from the doorway.

"Good morning, Christine. How are you feeling?"

Christine looked up at him. "Confused," she answered honestly.

Nadir nodded wisely and ran a hand through his thinning hair. "I'd bet I have a lot of questions to answer." He took a deep breath and went on, "Your father got out of surgery just fine. He's currently resting. Your sisters were called and informed of his… predicament.

"The shop opened this morning as usual. Mme. Giry's daughter, Meg is currently running it. She runs a dance school in the evenings, so rest assured that your shop is still in very musical hands.

"As to your other job, you quit as of eight o' clock this morning." He looked away.

"What?" she whispered. "What will I do for work?"

Nadir coughed a little and then sat next to her. "If I may, Christine, I must remind you that your new husband is rather wealthy. All of your needs, including further schooling, if you wish will be taken care of by him. I know this is not usual in this day and age, but… it gives him some peace of mind to know that you are safe and taken care of."

"Why?"

"My theory? He fancies himself in love with you. He might not come out and say anything right away, but I am almost sure of it. I think he fears that he will scare you off if he comes on too strong."

Christine sat and processed this and Nadir lit a cigarette. "How long?"

Nadir sputtered. "How long what?"

"How long has he… wanted..."

"How long has he wanted you?" Nadir sat back and thought. "Quite frankly, I'm not entirely sure. There was a time a few years back… you see, he sometimes meets… work associates at bars in the evening. They had chosen the then new piano bar up on 42nd Street – you know the place – it is where you worked to support your father and his music shop up until this morning. Anyways, after that night, he wasn't the same. He breathes work, but that week, he couldn't focus on a single meeting…" Nadir drifted off. He took in a sharp breath and continued, "After that week, he seemed OK.. He seemed a bit less restless. He began planning… something. I didn't know until the day before yesterday that he was planning to marry you. Imagine my shock when he all of the sudden comes out of the woodwork and not only expresses interest in a woman, but actually wanting to marry her too!" He took one last drag of his cigarette before pulling out a small pouch and snubbing it out inside. "So, here you are. I was ordered to give you a tour of the house before driving you to your father's shop. I think you will enjoy the house. Erik is quite talented, architecturally, you know. He designs buildings in his spare time. He designed this house himself."

Christine nodded. "All I've seen so far is the master bedroom, the music room, and the dining room here."

"There are five bedrooms total here, disregarding the servants quarters on the third floor of the house where Mme. Giry stays. This here is the formal dining room." He walked her to a discrete door in the corner of the room and opened it. Clean white light reflected off of polished chrome surfaces, not a speck of dirt or grease in sight. "This is the kitchen and the attached breakfast nook. If you prefer, I can tell the madame that you would like to take breakfast here in the mornings." He gestured to a simple wooden table set with two red vinyl chairs.

Christine nodded. "I'd like that. The dining room is beautiful, but it's so… big."

Nadir nodded. They passed glowing copper kettles hanging above a metal counter. He opened yet another door and led them back into the hallway. "Right now, we are on the ground floor. The kitchens and dining room you have already seen… let's see… there's the parlor, the billiards room, the music room, and the library also on this floor. The second floor contains the aforementioned bedrooms. The third floor is the servants' quarters, though, for now, there is only Mme. Giry who lives there now."

"Can we see the library?" Christine requested softly.

Nadir walked along the hallway, finally opened a pair of heavy wooden doors. Christine stepped through. It was beautiful. Bookshelves lined every spare inch of all four walls. Each was filled to the brim with books. A delicate spiral staircase dipped down from a second floor. Two leather armchairs sat next to a fireplace. A desk was pushed off into a dark corner, now cleared of everything except a leather blotter and a small calendar.

Christine drifted towards the nearest bookshelf and read the spines of the books filling its shelves. She frowned at their seeming random order. A book on tropical fish sat next to a treatise on socialism.

"He has his own system of organization. Maybe you'll be able to convince him to convert to a more sane one. I certainly don't understand it."

Christine laughed, smiling. "It'll give me something to do."

"Are you interested in the other rooms?"

Christine looked at him warily. "Not really. Honestly, I'm more nervous to get back to the shop."

"Very well," Nadir answered. "Let's go."

Christine turned and with one last look at the walls of books, closed the doors behind them.

"Whenever you wish to leave, your husband requests that you tell him where you are going so that he can arrange a car and an escort for you."

Christine looked over at him, suspiciously. "I _can_ drive, you know."

"I'm sure. It's just… as I said earlier, he wants to know that you are safe, even when he cannot be there personally." _And he wants to make sure you don't run away_, he thought, grimacing. "It's in the contract," he added on, trying too smooth her suspicion over.

Christine looked like she was about to protest, but then thought better of it and nodded to herself. "Let's go."

Nadir escorted her to a car identical to yesterday's car and opened the back door for her before getting into the backseat himself. He mumbled into a speaker and the car started to move.

The same long trip passed slowly. Nadir sat silently, his pen scratching occasionally on the paperwork he was engrossed in.

She watched the buildings pass by as they drew closer to the shop. They pulled into the parking lot. Nadir looked over at her. "I have some calls to make. You have forty-five minutes."

Christine nodded and stepped out onto the hot pavement. The shop looked the same, except for instead of her father behind the counter, a young blond woman stood, poring through the papers there. The bell tinkled as she entered.

The young blond looked up and smiled.

"Welcome to Daae Music and More. Can I help you find anything this afternoon?"

Christine returned her smile. "Yes, I'm Christine."

The blonde smiled and held out her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am."

"Please, call me Christine. 'Ma'am' sounds far too formal. And you are…?"

"Ah, how clumsy of me! I'm Meg Giry."

"Nice to meet you, Meg," Christine said, shaking Meg's hand. Christine started off towards the counter. "So, you own a dance studio?"

Meg's face lit up. "Yes, I do! I had always wanted to be a dancer as a child. I can't tell you how much I idolized my dance teacher. However, I know that realistically, I'm not star material, so I went to college and dual majored in business and dance so I could open my own studio. I love my dancing with my girls."

Christine smiled. "That's fantastic." She looked down at the billing statements spread out over the glass counter. "I see you've been through my father's mess of an organization system."

"I'm sorry for being so forward. I wanted to get a good idea of how the business is run as well as some of your filing systems."

"No problem. God knows, I've been trying to get into my father's office for years to sort this all out. Feel free to try and put it to some sort of order."

"Thanks. Any special instructions?"

"None that I can think of this instant. Nadir said that my father will be resting for at least two months. I guess if you have any major questions, get a hold of me and I'll see if I can stop by."

Meg pulled out her cell phone. "Can I get your number?"

Christine grimaced. "I don't have a cell and I just… moved, so I don't know my current land line either. I guess… call Nadir. He'll be able to get a hold of me," she nodded to herself.

"Done."

"What about compensation? I'm afraid we can't afford to pay you much..."

"Don't worry. It's already been taken care of."

"Ah," Christine commented eloquently. _I wonder if my new husband… _she wondered.

"Don't worry. Nadir has it all arranged."

"Don't hesitate to call if you have any questions. I'm not sure how often I'll be able to be by, but I'll try to come by soon."

Meg winked. "I'll see you then."

"I'll see you." The bells on the door chimed once more as Christine returned to the sweltering heat outside.

She looked off to the black car waiting for her. The tinted windows suddenly looked menacing. She swallowed the irrational fear and stepped towards the car door. The handle seared her hand in the midday sun. She opened it quickly, rubbing her hand against her skirt, soothing the skin. The cool air of the car's interior refreshed her. She slid in next to Nadir.

He looked up from some papers and pulled his reading glasses down his large nose a bit to look at her. "Did you figure everything out?"

Christine nodded. "I'd really like to come by again soon just to see… see how the shop's doing, but otherwise I think Meg will handle everything just fine," she said looking down at her hands. "I have a request," she murmured softly.

Nadir sat back and removed his glasses, folding them and tucking them into his shirt pocket before responding. "I can't promise that I can grant it, but I'll see what I can do."

"I want to see Papa."

Nadir nodded. "I thought you would. I've already made arrangements, though I can't promise that he'll be awake. A heart attack of that magnitude takes a lot out of someone."

Christine fiddled with her fingers. "I want to see him anyways. He shouldn't be all alone there."

Nadir nodded and instructed the driver through the intercom to head for the hospital. The car started the slow crawl through midday traffic towards the hospital at the city center.

**Posted 06/06/16**


End file.
